


Window into Space

by kathkin



Series: Summerpornathon 2013 [7]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 03:56:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathkin/pseuds/kathkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Nimueh met Igraine for the first time six weeks after the earth shattered.</i> In which Nimueh, Igraine and Uther live on a spaceship and Uther wants to have the first 'child of the stars'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Window into Space

**Author's Note:**

> For challenge 6 at the 2013 summerpornathon: light and dark. (Placed second!)

Nimueh met Igraine for the first time six weeks after the earth shattered.

“My wife,” said Uther. “Igraine.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Igraine said sweetly as she shook Nimueh’s hand. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Nimueh had heard of Igraine, too – Uther’s wife who he had bought onto the ship. Avalon was supposed to be for scientists and doctors and historians and people who would be useful in the future. And then there was Igraine Pendragon, opera singer.

She had also heard that Igraine was beautiful. She’d seen her in pictures a few times and believed it, but in person she was stunning. The smile she gave Nimueh lit up her whole face.

“A pleasure,” Nimueh echoed.

*

Of course, Uther had a justification. _Breeding_. He was determined that he and Igraine would have the first child of the stars.

“And your blood pressure’s normal,” said Nimueh, finishing their first physical. 

“Can you print the results out for Uther?” Igraine was still perched on the examination table, somehow still painfully gorgeous in a loose-fitting hospital gown. “God. He’s been bothering me about this all week.”

“Of course,” said Nimueh crisply.

*

Her determination to keep their relationship entirely professional lasted maybe a week.

“You know,” said Igraine as they sat huddled at the table in Nimueh’s room, sharing semi-illicit drinks, “He never even talked about having kids until the world was ending. That’s fucked up, isn’t it? That’s fucked up.”

Illicit because alcohol wasn’t allowed on the Avalon and even if it was Uther wouldn’t want his soon-to-be pregnant wife drinking and he certainly wouldn’t want her drinking with Nimueh.

“I don’t know,” said Nimueh. “There’s worse reasons to want kids than the end of the world.”

“I went to the nursery the other day,” said Igraine. “Just to see what I was in for, you know? And all the kids there were just ghastly.” She glanced at Nimueh’s window and shuddered. “God, how can you stand it?”

The window was a smooth square of darkness, scattered with stars. Nimueh shrugged. “I requested a room with a view,” she said. “I don’t want to forget where I am.”

“I do,” said Igraine.

*

Four months into the Avalon’s voyage into the unknown Igraine still wasn’t pregnant. And she had taken up smoking.

The tip of their shared cigarette glowed in the darkness of the common room. It was night-cycle.

“He wants you to check my fertility again,” said Igraine. “Give me a full examination.”

“I can do that,” said Nimueh.

*

They fucked squeezed together in Nimueh’s tiny quarters. They fucked up against the window, with only inches of reinforced glass between them and the void.

Igraine’s skirt was hitched up around her waist. Her eyes were pressed closed. Her back was pressed against the glass and Nimueh’s fingers were pressed between her legs.

She had two fingers up Igraine’s cunt and a thumb pushed against her clit, rubbing her roughly, drawing harsh, choked gasps out of her. 

“You’re wasted on him,” said Nimueh, her own breath coming in pants. She shoved a third finger in and Igraine was so wet it went easy.

“I know,” said Igraine. And then she came, head falling back against the window. 

Nimueh kissed her neck there, and there, fleeting open-mouthed kisses, and then her mouth. Igraine caught her and held her, tongue dipping in.

“I hate him,” said Igraine. “I hate him for making me hate him.” Her head lolled back, tilting so she could look out at the stars.

*

Avalon was suffocating, claustrophobic, rule-bound. The darkness of spaced pressed in around Nimueh. She regretted asking for a window. The longing for earth was a physical ache in her chest, in her stomach, in her throat. When she closed her eyes she could still see the bright flare of its destruction, burned onto her eyelids.

As weeks dragged into months, Igraine was the only light left in Nimueh’s life. And then she was snuffed out.

*

It took a little over a year for Igraine to get knocked up.

A little before the second anniversary of the earth’s death she went into labour and Nimueh found herself standing outside the intensive care unit, staring down Uther Pendragon.

“I don’t care what it takes,” he said, with ice in his gaze, “you save my son.”

The first child of the stars was pink and squalling and perfect. In the hospital bed, Igraine breathed her last.

In her room, Nimueh stared out into the darkness of space.


End file.
